Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1887-09-30
LONDON STREETS Ar NIGHT.

THE wRETCHED, sQUALID MISERY WHICH
GATHERS THERE WHILE THE GREAT CITY
SLEEPS.
When they told me at the railway sta
tion, says a writer in the Pail Mall Gazette,
that the last train TO the suburb where
lived had gone, l determined, mindful of
the pleasures of night wandering in Paris,
to seek shelter in no hotel, but to see what
sights the streets Of the sleeping city might
afford
1t lay in the gutter of that narrow street
there, where any passing cab or yonder
frut-la dray might, without blame to
the driver, have crushed its life out. 1t
was little child, so light in my hand as
picked it up, that for a moment | wonder
ed whether indeed it was a living thing.
Had it learned at so early an age to suf
fer and be still 1t seemed so, for it made
no cry. Not an abandoned babe, more
over for there, coiled up asleep in door
way, lay its mother The child had drop
ped from her relaxing arms and had rolled
into the kennel. In the Strand now, va
cant of all traffic, save of the walking lep-
ers of the street, insolent grown since a
piqued police curtails not their so repulsive
aggressions. 'Our new instructions bid us
leave them alone" said a constable to me /:
and very glad we are to be relieved of the
trouble Of chivvying them about" There
is that danger in applying the rebuke of
Tallevrand-that he to whom you forbid
over zeal will sink into inaction.
In every doorway of the side streets of
the thoroughfare single misery has taken
refuge. Misery in company Is here in Ira
falgar square. A curious sight, indeed, this
finest sight, as | then saw it, 1t was all
dark, with couchant mob of homeless
vagabonds taking their rest on the stones.
Not all in rags there, much back-coated
misery was there. Such was he who pres
emily tells me he was a city clerk, and who,
TO Judge from his tongne and manner, may
| indeed have once done clerkly work His
pillow is Daily Telegraph. This paper
bedding affords curious study. Most
have such furniture to their resting places,
| and as / walk round l take notice what pa
pers are most in use. The Echo pillows
most of those who are in rags. Black
coated misery takes its bed-iittings from
the conservative press. One is a starving
and homeless outcast, but one respects the
institutions of ones country. Four hun
| dred sleepers, men and women, promiscu-
ously side by side, l count in the shadows
of the finest hotels in the world. High up
ON his column stands over all one who spoke
once of England and her expectation. That
| 400 men and women and their children
should thus be flung on the pavement
starving, abandoned, in the very heart and
centre of the luxury of the worldwide has
| failed in his duty Far off CLEANS the
| light high up that tells us that the people of
England are even now being cared for. Her
maiesty's commons are at work, and pro
vision is being made for the commonwealth.
| 1t is a sorry beacon, seen from sorry sea.
! Back to Covent Garden whore more misery
| is TO be seen. No sleepers here, but men
standing shivering under arches-a mother
Wonder munching some garbage picked from
the refuse of the street Hunger in the
centre of the plethora of London But
one lives by contrast, and society loves the
antitheSis. "a penny, sir, for a cupof cof-
fee It's terribly cold How often do |
hear those words as | pass a now open cof-
fee house, filed with prosperous market
men Can one get any soup anywhere
here ~ "No sir-coffee cocoa, and ginger
beer" "Are there no soup kitchens open
now 2" "lhey don't have none, save in
the winter" 1t is true one is hungry in
the winter only the other nine months one
is not, or should not be. In Paris one can
always and at any hour buy for penny a
good bowl of soup, nourishing and comfort
ing. Often at the Halles, where chiefly the
soup merchants ply their trades, have
thus breakfasted. 1t is infinitely better
than coffee, tea or cocoa, and it is a matter
of wonder that the minor industries of Lon
don do not number soup stalls. In Paris
these pay very well, and are greatly appre
ciated by the customers for whom they ca
ter.
As the day dawns am back in Trafalgar
square, where the silent reveille of a cold
wind has walked the sleepers. Some are
sitting staring at the world others are oc
cupied over their sad toilets; a woman
there with needle and thread mar
here with toothbrush and the water OF
the fountain--it is my ex-city clerk. TC
what another day are these arising As
stand on Westminster bridge the thought Of
that line comes to me which speaks of the
lying still of all this mighty heart. Ii,
STILL the warmly bedded and the well fed
As for the others Well, for them
Still there clings
The old question; win not God do righti